


Beautiful Systems, Old Orders

by musicmillennia



Series: A Thousand Battles, A Thousand Victories [7]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blankets Everywhere, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Mick Rory Needs a Hug, Multi, Onesies, Panic Attacks, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: "He killed me."There's a pause. "Who killed you, Mick?""Snart. Lenny. Killed me.""...Mick. Can you put me on speaker? I'd like to talk to Gideon."All in all, Felicity sounds pretty calm for someone whose s-o's having a psychotic break.





	Beautiful Systems, Old Orders

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, call me crazy, but I don't think LoT spent nearly enough time to confront the fact that Mick Rory was forced to watch his partner of 30+ years kill him without hesitation.
> 
> Also, time doesn't break here, and Rip stays. Because. This is fan fiction. So fuck canon, amirite
> 
> Oh, and I haven't watched Arrow since a couple episodes from season 1 on Netflix. So there's that.

_"People who are lonely, people left alone, sit talking nonsense to the air, imagining...beautiful systems dying, old orders spiraling apart."_ ―Harper _, Angels in America_

* * *

The ship takes off. Mick doesn't know where or when they're going. He doesn't exactly care either.

Time jumps might as well be a merry-go-round after all the shit Mick's been through with 'em. He gets up from his seat and walks freely. He's got the sea legs for it. Time legs? Whatever.

Snart's leaning on the wall as he passes. "A better man, huh? Sounds like you've gone soft yourself."

Mick keeps walking.

Snart pushes off and falls into step with him. "Maybe that's why I killed you," he muses, "can't have anyone soft on my crew. That's when you start wantin' out."

Mick gets to his room. He puts a lock on the door.

"Question is..." Snart drapes himself on his bed. "What is it you want out of, Mick?"

Mick takes out his phone.

Snart scoffs. "Sure, call your girl first. Bet you'll leave one helluva note. You gonna call your hooded crusader next?" his voice goes deep in a shit imitation: "You have failed your partner."

Felicity's already answered. Snart had talked over her. Her words seem to fade in.

"Mick? Mick, are you okay?"

"Aw, she's  _concerned_ ," Snart says, "What a sweet little hero."

Mick sits in his chair. "He killed me." He sounds far away. Like an echo.

"Mm, that's accurate." Snart sneers at him and hisses, "You're an echo of yourself.  _How the mighty have fallen._ "

Felicity speaks again: "Who killed you, Mick?"

Mick's tongue feels heavy and useless. "Snart. Lenny. Killed me."

"Don't sound so surprised," Snart drawls.

"...Mick," Felicity says, "Can you put me on speaker? I'd like to talk to Gideon."

All in all, she sounds pretty calm for someone whose s-o's having a psychotic break. Mick puts her on speaker.

This time, Snart's drowned out by her. "Gideon? Where are you guys? Er, when."

Gideon promptly replies, "We are about to land in Oklahoma, 1873. Jonah Hex has issued a time anomaly as an SOS."

"Okay. Don't know who that is, but I guess he's important."

"Quite."

"Well, you're gonna have to make a detour."

"I'm afraid only the captain can―"

" _Gideon_ ," Felicity snaps, "Get Mick to Star City, April 21st, 2017. 10 pm. If you don't, I have Barry Allen on speed dial, and trust me when I say I can have him ruin the timeline in  _one minute_."

"...I shall inform the captain."

"Sure. While you turn around."

"Yes, Miss Smoak."

Mick feels Snart's smirk like a cold brand. "Found another tough one, huh? Too bad you can't enjoy her."

Vaguely, Mick registers his partner is once again holding a gun to his head. A regular Glock, nothin' special. Has a couple hot rod flames stamped on it, marking it as Mick's.

"Mr. Rory," Gideon says, "I have alerted Captain Lance. Please refrain from pulling the trigger."

Felicity utters a quiet  _"Oh God"_ and says, "Mick, please. Stay with me. Listen to my voice. We'll be waiting for you, okay? Gideon, land two miles south of the city! We'll get you home, get you off that ship. Oliver's already on his way. Diggle's with him."

"But it ain't me," Mick replies blankly, "Snart's holding it."

"How cute," Snart says, "your little brain's finally broken."

Felicity says something to another person. Mick can't make it out, but she sounds panicked.

"Funny," Snart says, "I already killed you once. How many times do you think I will? Maybe I'll take it slow now. You know how much I like to draw things out when I have the time. And from the looks of it..." there's banging on the door. "We have all the time in the world."

He leans in and whispers, "Just you and me, Mick.  _Partners_."

The door opens. The gun is knocked out of Mick's hand, and Snart's gone.

Huh. Had it really been him holdin' it, then? Not that there ain't much difference. Either way, he and Snart want Mick dead.

"Felicity? Is that you?" Sara's saying.

"Is the gun out of his hand?" Felicity demands.

"I got it," Ray says.

Felicity's breath comes in a crackle of static. "Okay. Okay. Just―stay with him until you land. Better yet, get him to the door."

The ship lurches. 

"Yeah," Jax says, "give us a second. Kinda hard to walk around during a jump."

"As soon as possible," Felicity says.

Mick stares at all of them. Watches Amaya stumble her way to him. Feels her hand on his shoulder.

"Mick," she says quietly, "are you with us?"

Mick tries to reply, but there's ice in his mouth. Ice in his chest. Is his heart beating? He can't tell.

"We have landed," Gideon reports. "The Green Arrow is boarding."

Right on cue, Oliver's Arrow voice bellows Mick's name. Mick feels it like a hot pike in his brain. The ice crackles in displeasure.

"Oliver," Sara says, "what's going on?"

"Is it true?" Oliver says, "Did Snart hurt him?"

"Killed his future self," Jax says.

Felicity gasps. Oliver curses.

"I thought it was just, like, metaphorical," Felicity babbles, "I didn't think―oh, Mick―"

"I have to hang up the phone, Felicity," Oliver says.

"Yes, yeah, of course. Just―you bring him home fast, okay?"

"Will do." The phone's taken from Mick.

"Home?" Ray says.

"Not now, Ray," Oliver says. He sounds normal again. "Mick. You have to stand up."

Mick stands.

"Look at you," Snart says, though Mick can't see him, "following orders again." He barks.

Oliver leads him out by the arm. "Leave him to us," he tells the team, "we'll send word if he wants to come back or not."

"What do you mean 'if'?" Sara demands.

Oliver drags Mick outside and doesn't answer. Diggle's waiting beside the car, looking grim. He opens the backseat door without question.

No one speaks the whole way into the city, but Oliver's vice grip says enough.

 

Felicity and Oliver quietly thank Diggle outside their building. They usher Mick in, herding him into the elevator.

Felicity rubs his back. "I've got tea ready," she murmurs, "spicy ginger. Your favorite."

The ice makes Mick say, "He killed me."

Oliver grasps his shoulder. "We'll talk about that later, Mick. What's important right now is  _you're_ not dead."

"And we're gonna make sure you stay not dead," Felicity says vehemently, "Or, alive."

"Do the world a favor," the ice says.

Felicity takes a deep breath. Oliver growls, "If taking you out is doing anyone favors, I'll put an arrow in their skulls."

The elevator dings with the force of a church bell. Mick is taken into their apartment. Sure enough, it smells like ginger.

"How about we get you into something comfy?" Felicity says with choked sweetness. "There's always the gag gift from our anniversary."

Mick snorts. But he doesn't object.

A few minutes later, Felicity gently guides him to the kitchen. She's wearing a green onesie covered with math equations and and computers. Mick's is a bold red with firetrucks. He feels utterly ridiculous, but like Felicity said, it's damn comfy.

"Dressing you up in monkey suits now," Snart says. "I thought you were stupid before, Mick, but this is a new low."

"Shut up," Mick growls.

Felicity and Oliver glance at each other.

Oliver looks way too understanding. "Where's Snart right now?"

Mick eyes Snart. He's smirking from the counter, right by a steaming cup of tea.

Oliver follows his gaze. "Get the  _fuck_ out."

Snart snarls, eyes flashing. "Think you can just get ridda me? I ain't in  _your_ head, Queen."

"Mick," Felicity says, "he only has power because you're letting him have it. You are  _not_ a victim."

"Yes you are," Snart says, "why do you think I killed you?"

"He killed me," Mick says.

Oliver grips his face in his hands. "Listen to me. Whatever he's spouting isn't true. Take it from someone who knows, Mick, that you can get past this. Whatever the Legion did to Snart, it changed him. Think of your partner―the real one. Would he kill you?"

"In  _cold_ blood," Snart says, ice steaming from his grinning lips.

But Mick thinks about

that time in juvie where little Lenny threw himself at a big guy for insulting Mick, about

that time on a job where he shot someone in the head for assuming Mick was on the crew for his cock-sucking, about

that time Len declared they were partners, that Mick was smart, that Mick was his best friend, and he was a little drunk but he was sincere, about

that time they kissed, and it didn't work out, but Len still wanted him around, "you're my partner, that doesn't change," about

that time Len put him in a clinic after the Fire, not leaving him to burn, about

that time when Len let himself be summoned like a dog so Mick wouldn't get erased, about

Len abandoning him, leaving him, but never―he wouldn't―

 _he wouldn't_.

Snart is gone.

Mick finds himself on the couch, Oliver kneeling in front of him, Felicity at his side. She holds his hand against her abdomen, counting out breaths in his ear. He holds Mick's other hand in both of his, solid and firm like a sentinel.

Mick sags like a puppet with its strings cut. Only he's not a puppet. Is he? No, he―he's not, he―he's not. He's not, he's not,  _he's not_.

"No, you're not," Oliver says.

Felicity pulls Mick in and kisses his head. He breathes in the aftertaste of detergent on her onesie, the perfume still clinging to her neck, and sighs through his nose.

"He's gone," he croaks.

Oliver nods. "You did good, Mick. Trust me when I say not all of us can overcome what you've gone through."

Mick picks weakly at his sleeve. "Y'mean wearin' this shit?"

Felicity lets out a hysterical giggle. Oliver ducks his head, smiling.

"Hey," Felicity says, "we look  _fabulous_."

 

Oliver comes out wearing a Disney Robin Hood onesie. Mick, swathed in blankets, nearly spits out his tea.

"We're in this together," Oliver says a tad too solemnly to be talking about onesies.

Felicity laughs. "You have to put the hood up like me and Mick! It's your  _thing_."

Oliver throws back his shoulders and does just that. Mick is turning red.

"That's it," Mick says as soon as he can actually swallow, fuck you Oliver, "we're watchin' the movie."

"Yes!" Felicity crows.

"No," Oliver says.

"You've been out-voted, Robin Hood," Mick says.

"...damn."

 

Mick falls asleep on Felicity's lap.

Len's voice echoes in his head on waves of blue: "They're right. It wasn't me. I'm so  _sorry_ , Mick."

He wakes with burning eyes, but he doesn't know why.

 

"Can I get up now?"

Felicity squeezes all four limbs around Mick. "No."

From on top of him, Oliver adds, "Sun's barely up, anyway."

Mick rolls his eyes.

Quietly, Felicity says, "We love you. You know that, right?"

The silence convulses.

"We want you alive. We want you happy."

"And being happy," Oliver says, "can be a bit of a stretch. We know that. But at least content with what you've got."

Mick swallows.

"Yeah," he mumbles, "yeah, I know."

Felicity kisses his cheek. "Good."


End file.
